


Starring, For One Night Only

by smileyfacegauges



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gore, Songfic, defiling a nice josh groban song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 03:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileyfacegauges/pseuds/smileyfacegauges
Summary: He dazzles, he dances, he shines. One-shot.





	Starring, For One Night Only

As elegant as his namesake, the killer lifted his head and turned his face to the burning stars above the stage.

The beams were blinding and white, hot on his face and encouraging trickles of sweat to roll down his back. He sucked in a noisy, chest-expanding breath through his nose and shook his pretty head, flinging splatters of fresh blood upon his shoulders and the blackened stage.

The lights were only a small percentage for his gleam of sweat, blood, and tears – the latter two not of his own. He had a performance of a lifetime, the co-star of the century, and only the empty theatre could give him the standing ovation he deserved. 

The man decked in soiled pinks (now returned to their origin red), wet blacks and discolored whites lifted his arms to praise the heaven of bulbs above as the soundtrack to his murder introduced a new song. It began with sad, yearning strings that harmonized elegantly, only to be jarred to the eye of a storm.

His favorite song.

The one that tonight, he dedicated his one-time lover of death to. 

_Il vento - che soffia piano  
Questa notte - cambia il mio destino_

Yes! The killer began to sway like a ribbon of seaweed in the waves, then from his knees he steadied his weight upon his foot. He swept his hand down to expired supporting lead, appealing to them with a face as genuine as a stilted lover.

_E sento - che il cuore ancora si sorprenderá_  
La vita - ora ha piú senso  
La vita - ora ha piú senso 

When they didn’t (couldn't) respond to him, he curled his fingers, cascading them into a tight fist. His arm trembled under the weight of his reflections, and he rose to his feet with a great burst of decisive energy.

He was met with the empty, yawning seats of the grand theatre, an audience of ghosts among gilded walls. He opened his palm, gazing wistfully into the stickiness of drying blood webbing his glove.

_E la luna - innamorata s'illuminerá di me_  
E sará...  
All'improvviso amore 

The music crescendoed! And he struck his heel upon the stage, his strides filled with absolute purpose, with raw feeling, the power of an aching lover! He stalked around his star-crossed, sleeping dear – his bethrothed of one night, an engagement that lasted just a few measly hours.

He knelt a their side in one fluid motion, reaching his fingers to gently stroke a face that wore the makeup of brutal death. Then his face twisted into an impassioned snarl, and he grabbed the body by its unruly hair and flung it onto its back. His weight rocked back and forth in pantomimed sorrow, and he drew a glinting knife from its sheath at his hip. He brandished it behind him, while his other hand stroked the lifeless face beneath it, then at once yanked the hair and forced the scalp back. The face was pulled as taut as it allowed, the chin struck towards the ceiling.

_M'invade il cuore e l'anima_  
E mi salverá  
E sará naturale - come respirare  
L'aria in me  
Mi parlerá di te 

The disembodied voice amongst its unseen orchestra belted the serenade that the killer acted. The knife returned to play, caressing an unseen guiding line around the unliving face, still warm from the slaughter. His eyebrows were lifted with adoration and promise, then lowered over eyes that had lost their well-acted feeling.

_Adesso - tutto é diverso_

“Now, everything is different,” he whispered to his victim, translating the lyrics that they never heard. 

_Respiro - te nell'universo_

“Breathe in the universe,” he implored, the wicked tip of his carving beginning at the temple. Like the dotted line on a mask in the newspaper for excited tots ready for Halloween, he followed the carefully-plotted road that had taken him years to pave to perfection.

_I tuoi occhi - son due stelle nell'oscuritá_

“Your eyes,” he remarked, glancing at the hallowed stare into nothingness, “they are two stars in the darkness.” 

His technique was like a diamond to a glass: clean, precise, quick when its operator was a master of craft. A smile crawled over his face, the satisfied glee of a someone receiving the gift they always wanted, and ripping the skin from the face drew a gross stretch of blood that strung itself on the floor, and his shoes, like liquid taffy.

_All'improvviso amore_

He now sang robustly, his head held high, the skin he held dangling and dripping like a floppy wet rag over his face. The blood was lukewarm now, and he tasted copper as it rained upon his handsome features. 

_Come - il mare_  
M'invade il cuore e l'anima  
E mi salverá 

Then, he let go. It fell upon him, sickeningly misaligned and unstable in its muck. If he breathed through his nose, he’d inhale the sting of something that oughtn’t be in his nasal cavity. So he chose his mouth, and with his great breath he sucked in the soft chewiness of skin.

And he began to chew.

He was inspired now, and the loose skin slid off his face and hung like a rag from his teeth as he glided about the stage. The blood made him cool in the breeze of his movements, and he was led by his careful imagination while the blood kept him blind.

The body center stage lay humiliated. 

_E sará naturale - come respirare_

Ruthlessly, he grabbed the flaccid mass at his mouth and ripped it from his teeth, hoisting it in his fist to present to absent gods. Though he grinned a nasty grin, his bared teeth gnashed and chewed his well-earned snack. His tongue pushed the skin around his mouth, aiding the mashing of human flesh.

_Luce dentro me nascerá_

As the song drew to an emotional close that could leave audiences feeling spiritually renewed, their hearts filled with a hot fever for love, enthusiastic with inspiration, the deadliest killer to roam the streets of Gotham was performing an ode to wrongful bloodlust.

As the Flamingo swallowed the gruesome face of a marked man, he closed his eyes to the world, and drank in the roaring applause of silence.


End file.
